


Branding the Future

by Jupiterra



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred Being an Asshole, Angst, Complete, Family Issues, M/M, Mental Instability, POV Canada (Hetalia), RusAme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 19:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12489224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiterra/pseuds/Jupiterra
Summary: Alfred and Ivan seem to get getting along too well, and that's something Matthew finds suspicious.This piece was inspired by the song "Redesign your Logo" by Lemon Demon.





	1. Chapter 1

It all began so quietly, with whispers and looks. The world must be improving, the other nations said. World peace was finally going to be a reality, optimists preached. Matthew Kirkland heard all these things, wanted to believe them, but he couldn't. The promise felt hollow and wrong, and the Canadian knew it was the engine driving the change that caused this concern.

It was Russia and America. They had announced several world meetings ago that they were working together 'to make the world a better place'. Since then they had both been quiet, sharing knowing looks, stifling chuckles over shared jokes. They acted like friends, like allies, like something much worse... lovers.

Matthew was not against love, but he was against the destruction of the earth. That was the only outcome he could see with such a pairing. Worse still, no one seemed to see it. They looked at the two nations once locked in economic cold war, only seeing shadows and reflection of their true intent. They didn't see that shared malicious glint in their eyes. The two seemed possessed by the same darkness and fervour of the 1980's, madly scrambling for something yetunknown.

Ignored and unseen, Matthew seemed to be the only one overlooked in America's facade of foolishness and jokes. He wasn't buying it. There was something... wrong. That certain something made itself known after another fruitless world meeting in Berlin.

Canada, having been ignored by his American sibling again, was in the process of procuring a flight home. Without discussing it in the slightest, the thoughtless super power had given Canada's seat to Russia. It was infuriating, but not a new occurrence. Matthew had been ditched by others before in unusual parts of the world.

He tried to made the best of it. Knowing enough German to get by, Matthew asked for directions as he left the conference hall. Traffic was terrible, which was unsurprising. By the time the Canadian returned to the hotel, it was a hour or so after all the other nations would have left. Most of them were probably at the airport, or back in their respective vehicles.

Matthew originally picked a hotel room on the same floor as Alfred. They were supposed to do a tour of the town, a sibling vacation together of sorts. Matthew had been really looking forward to it, ready to finally be a tourist. Since visiting Ukraine a few months ago, then Prussia more recently, he was due for some social time.

The wheaten blond took off his glasses as he crashed on his hotel bed. In a far off room, there was muffled noise. Yelling perhaps. The Canadian groaned, desiring piece and quiet. If he asked nicely, whoever it was might quiet down long enough for Matthew to nap. Dragging himself to sitting, he left the room and walked towards the sound.

It sounded like Alfred, as if he was in pain! Matthew bolted forward, more motivated. Canada's long buried chivalry was about to come to the surface, as he reached for the door handle. “God, harder! You're fucking awesome!” Alfred yelled loudly through the wall, making Matthew freeze. He wilted in horror, backing away slowly. It was just so wrong to hear your own family getting... intimate.

Something even more disturbing happened as Canada back away. He heard the rumbling voice of Russia as telltale furniture squeaking hastened. “You're so perfect... Soon the whole world will be perfect... Remade in our image...” the intimidating Slav grunted, voice falling apart. Alfred keened loudly in response.

Feeling sick, Canada ran back to his room and packed. He wanted to get out of this hotel, this very country. Not only were the suspicions of the superpowers being lovers confirmed, but the duo was planning something. Russia's lust born words were troubling. Remade in their image indeed.

The months slipped by as they always did for nation, but those words never left Matthew's mind. He didn't lose sleep over the event, but it hung in the back of his mind like a phantom. That restless spirit of unease would come back full force the next summer. It was a meeting in Mexico, and the heat was sweltering. Attendance was at an all time high, over seventy nations piled in the room.

The musk of dust and sweat hung in the air, relentless sunshine bleeding in through sheer curtains. Matthew eyed Ivan warily from afar, noticing the hulking Russian overheated and miserable. Canada was of a similar state, not one for summer. Although Estonia was supposed to be the first speaker, he appeared to be missing. Russia's old subjects had the tendency to vanish whenever their old master was near. Fear, the Canadian supposed.

As Alfred took the stand instead, Germany stood in protest. “You are not the first speaker, or the second. You will have to wait your turn.” the lawful nation ordered coldly. “First of, Estonia isn't even here. Second, I'm just pointing out that I brought ice cold drinks for y'all, since the air conditioner is broken. It's on the table over there. Fully complimentary.”

Fully complimentary. The way the phrase curled out of America's mouth like a serpent. How Russia smirked at that exact moment, purple eyes glittering with... something. Possibly ominous. It all chilled Matthew to the bone despite the crushing heat.

People flocked to the table, itching for hydrating relief in this blistering summer. There was buckets of ice with soda cans in them. The simple logo was smooth and circular, completely unoffensive. As everyone eagerly grabbed a cool drink, Matthew hesitated.

He grabbed a chilled can but didn't open it. Canada and the USA were conjoined economies, always sharing markets. Yet Matthew had never seen this drink before today, anywhere. It looked a lot like other popular sodas, yet the subconsciously Russian and American colours were different. Even the carbonated liquid was strange from afar, a deep red that trailed with bubbles in frosted mugs.

Canada noticed something else. Alfred, possibly the biggest soda enthusiast in the world, was not drinking a drop. He was just watching with great interest as other people drank. It was extremely out of character for him. It's just a can of soda, the shy blond debated internally, but he didn't dare drink it. Something about this whole situation felt wrong.

“Aren't you thirsty, bro? It's like a volcano in here.” Alfred insisted, having moved a few chairs closer. “I just had some water, but I'll have some later.” Matthew lied. He was actually quite an accomplished liar, but so few people made him have to bend to such measures. Normally he just had to be polite, and people generally respected his modest wishes. Right now, America was just so... off.

The world meeting carried on, occasionally laced with commentary. Increasingly, the subtle chatter turned to their drinks.

“Such a lovely color.”

“It tastes good.”

“I think I'll have another.”

Matthew just couldn't buy it. If the drink was so good, why wasn't Russia having any? He looked flushed and tired from the heat, still wearing that silly scarf. Embarrassed by how much his mind was focused on a drink, Matthew turned his attention to the current speaker. He was probably making a big deal out of nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Two months later, Canada and Mexico were hiking at the base of Mount baker. They found kinship in each other. They were both ignored by Alfred despite needing his economy to survive. Only difference was that Mexico had given up on being friends with the super power a long time ago.

He's my brother, what we have is different. Special. Matthew reasoned to himself. Lately he wasn't feeling the love though. It had been two months since the meeting and there wasn't so much as a sloppy text. Usually Canada was the first guy to be tortured by Alfred's drunk midnight ballads.

“Something is bothering you amigo.” Isabella noted softly, her tone concerned. They walked scenic mountain trails at a snails pace. Stopping to admire airy peaks of stone dusted with snow, Matthew nodded. As loud as the former Spanish colony could get, she was very observant. Rarely, the inky black haired senorita would be quite the lady. Matthew liked the change of pace from his noisy angry family.

“I'm scared for Alfred. He's been... with Russia, and I think they're doing something.” Matthew admitted warily, knowing how much of a gossip Isabella could be. He just had to talk to someone. Prussia was an even worse gossip than Mexico, and confrontational to boot. Isabella would probably do just fine.

“With Russia, as in...” Mexico asked with a gasp, making her point with a simple yet sordid hand gesture. “Yes. I heard them... being friendly, at the hotel.” Canada nearly whispered, not wanting it to echo in the hills. “That is so scandalous! I just thought they were pretending to get along for trade.” the Mexican squealed in a mix of disgust and delight. 

“Trading spit maybe.” Matthew muttered with disdain. “You don't approve? Is the older brother being possessive?” Isabella teased, giving up on hiking for now. She rolled out a picnic blanket and took a rest.

Canada sat beside her, brow furrowed with worry. “Maybe, eh. It's not just that though. Alfred isn't always... right in the head, since he got into nukes. Russia... that loon is way worse. Just the two of the them, being unstable with each other. They're probably going to blow up the earth or something.” he confessed, relieved to unload the troubling idea off his shoulders.

“You worry too much, need to get out more. You haven't visited in forever, I have a big new water park we can see.” Mexico soothed in brash manner, plastering on a silly smile. “You're probably right.” Matthew conceded nervously. “That Russia, I don't trust him either. He broke the air conditioner last meeting, but I don't know why. Had big pipe marks all over. Even cut all the wires. Bastard!” Mexico ranted, growing irate.

No... Did Russia purposely break the air conditioner so people would get thirsty? That would explain why the pale nation had been so smug. That would mean Alfred was in on the stunt. Why was the duo so intent on making everyone like their stupid drink?

“Alfred was so nice with free pop. He even apologized about Russia wrecking the utility room. Did you have one? It was very good.” Mexico continued on, rather giddy. “Not at the time.” Matthew dismissed, more suspicious than ever. “I've actually been thinking about getting a hold of the stuff. It would sell great at home.” Isabella waxed romantics about it further.

America and Russia were working together to sell something on the international scale. There had to be a reason for such extreme acts of capitalism. Matthew would definitely have to investigate further.

00000

The sheer scale of whatever the hell Russia and America were trying to achieve was impressive. After six months of investigations and travel on weekends, Matthew had some idea what was going on. The two nations were buying massive tracts of land in fertile foreign countries under false names.

Genetically modified plants so new they didn't have proper names were grown and processes into soda, food, and strange vitamins. The products were sold at cutthroat prices. Local businesses were snuffed out in months by the onslaught. These multi-million dollar farms were guarded by infamous mercenary companies and unsavory types across the world.

Truthfully, it all frightened the modest Canadian. The size of the operation was spread over forty countries, apparently running for at least two years. Was this all really a quest for money? It seemed unlikely. Alfred was the leader of the free market, and Ivan had enough oil and bombs to defy reason.

More troubling was why they were doing this. The entire thing was directly controllable by the pair, a web of production that definitely generated billions of dollars. At the very least, they were producing more wealth than they could burn off under reasonable situations.

It was time to finally confront the pair, and unveil the dark truth. Packing a suitcase, the determined Canadian prepared to leave. It was dismaying to see so many billboard's with Alfred's soda drink on the way to the airport. Whatever this scheme was, it was taking his citizens by storm.

00000

After a two hour flight, Mathew's bravery was wilting. He rarely confronted his more powerful sibling about anything since the atomic bomb. Alfred was just so strong it was painful. Unlike Russia who simply didn't care to be gentle, the American was just unaware of the damage he could inflict. At least... he used to be.

Matthew felt uneasy pondering such things. He had not had a real conversation with Alfred for years. Now was definitely time for one. Stepping out of the cab, the wheaten blonde quaked slightly. Under normal daylight, Alfred's white colonial home was rather unassuming.

It was the smothering dark of autumn evening. Shadows like claws dragged over the exterior of the home, cast by sickly orange street lamps. Matthew paid the cab driver, then watched as the car vanished into the night. No turning back now.

Dead leaves rustled and tumbled past his feet at he approached the southern style veranda. Walking up the stairs, each step squeaked ever so slightly. It seemed no one was home, even though there was two cars in the drive way. One was unmistakably Russian, with a likely rude bumper sticker in curling foreign letters.

It didn't matter. Sex or not, those two needed a stern talking to! Fetching the key from under the door mat, Canada unlocked the battered wooden door and stepped inside. It was dark inside as it was outside. Bleary led lights from electronics faintly pierced the living room's gloom. Familiar with the layout, Matthew flicked on the light.

The room was a little dusty, but otherwise fine. Peering into the shiny white modern kitchen, there was a half prepared meal on the counter. Crimson stains speckled the featureless counter, a long knife askew beside a ragged wooden cutting board. God, what was that? It was red and round and... beets. It was just beets. He really needed to calm down!

Taking a deep breath, the timid nation continued his search. The wood floor groaned once in a while as he padded upstairs in sock feet. In the dim hall, light spilled out the bottom of the last door. The war room. It had been unused and neglected since the cold war finished nearly twenty years ago. This night, muffled sounds of conversation bled through the walls.

Straightening his posture, Matthew knocked on the door. The occupants within silenced, then the knob clicked as it turned. A leering pair of violet eyes assessed him through the open crack. Russia then swung the door wide open, smiling broadly with yellowing teeth.

“Matvey, you surprised us. Come in, come in.” the tall Slav greeted, practically dragging Canada by his wrist. Alfred was hunched over a desk in the far corner, surrounded by elaborate lab equipment. This was not what made Matthew gawk, but the room itself.

Maps of all the countries hung on the walls in English and Russian. They were needled with push pins, shaded with red marker, or sometimes directly written on top of. Several metal filing cabinets in military green lined one side of the room. The other was dominated by advanced lab equipment, beakers, and a mini fridge. At the center of this chaos was two well padded chairs and a couch. Sickly black burns seemed to trail from the lab area to the abused gingham patterned furniture.

“I called ahead of time, to let you know I was visiting.” Matthew explained, as America finally tore his gaze from a tube of red liquid. “... make the calculations... then the shipping...” he muttered, glazed over in deep thought. He looked at Matthew curiously, then life seemed to register in his sky blue eyes.

“Brother, brother, brother! I forgot you were coming! I'm so glad to see you!” Alfred greeted strangely in song, sweeping Matthew up in a hug. The American's scarlet stained lab coat fluttered as he spun the unwilling blond around in a crushing hug. Finally set down, he was herded to the cleaner of the two lounge chairs. “Why the honor of visiting?” Alfred asked, far too polite. 

Sensing something was horribly off, Matthew decided to get this over with. He swallowed as he watched Ivan lock the door, from the inside. “I wanted to talk to you Alfie, I'm concerned.” he started slowly. Russia meanwhile, pocketed the key for the door and sauntered over. He still smiled like a damn Cheshire cat, and it made Matthew's skin crawl.

“Whatever for? I'm all about world peace now. We've both been disarming, helping third world countries...” Alfred responded in an artificially sweet tone. He was completely unstable, plain as day. Perhaps Matthew was too late to intervene, again.

“I know you guys are pushing your weird sodas and stuff on other countries. I want to know why... please.” Canada demanded, hastily adding a nicety at the end. He wasn't a savage after all. Ivan giggled as Alfred smirked. The younger yet more powerful sibling dropped into the other chair. Tenting his fingers, he analyzed Matthew like he was a lab rat.

“Me and Russia... We really want what's best for the world.” Alfred began coolly. “Russia and I, dear. Grammar is important.” Ivan scolded softly, squeezing his partner's shoulder. Normal Alfred would have punched the guy, or at least been sarcastic. This Alfred smiled demurely, cuddling the touch.

“I was having a conflict of heart about two years ago, and Vanya helped me realize something. I want to make the world a better place, so does he. But how do you do that when there's so much that's wrong?” Alfred began, nearly purring as both his shoulder were massaged.

“There's no one religion, government that binds humanity... except survival. Food. Hunger makes us relate, speak... the need for food makes us hunt and farm. Hunger is humanity. If we control the food and distribute it freely, all other conflicts fall away.” Alfred continued calmly, eyes distant in a dream.

“Every demographic would be exposed and influenced... men 18 to 30, college educated, women over 40, suicidal poets, fat mid-western fathers, Pentecostal preachers, mothers under 20, interracial couples, atheist professors, government employees, xenophobes and racists, private aviators... They all need to eat, influenced by what they consume. Think about it as guided evolution.” Ivan continued seamlessly were Alfred left off.

Alfred giggled, looking more insane than ever. He picked up where Ivan left off after kissing a pale scarred hand affectionately. “A world united by us through basal need, beyond language or countries. World peace. World peace through us, guiding the blind with their stomachs. We have restaurant chains, grocery stores... It's so much more than a can of soda. It's branding the future... Do you understand Mattie? Do you understand why this is so important?”

Matthew stood quickly, as horrified as he was disappointed. “I won't be part of your scheme. People aren't supposed to be controlled. I thought you of all people would understand that!” the lavender eyed Canadian bristled, retreating to the door. It was locked! Why was it locked! Ivan, still smiling, teasingly waved the key.

“You just haven't had a soda yet. Fully complimentary.” Alfred insisted, a malicious shadow in his gaze. “We insist, Matvey. You'll really love it. All we want is for you to feel happy.” Ivan echoed in agreement. The hulking Russian pocketed the key for the door, moving closer.

Matthew panicked, trying to bust the door down with his shoulder. He was no super power, but he could still lift most of a car. He bounced off painfully, a metallic sound resounding from where he struck. The wood on the door was probably fake with metal beneath. He saw that the windows were barred. This was a trap.

“No thank you, I'm... not... thirsty right now!” Matthew spat out at he was pinned to the wall by Russia. The pale sociopath was stronger and faster, but the plucky Canadian struggled anyway. “Everyone gets thirsty, brother. In fact, here's a drink on me! It's extra special!” Alfred crooned while disturbingly cheerful. He skipped over to the lab, grabbing a tube of ruby red liquid. It was labelled in sinister Cyrillic letters, followed by a long serial code.

Alfred neared the unknown concoction to Matthew's mouth, but the stubborn sibling turned his face away. “Drink it.” Ivan snarled, Russian accent thickening from anger. Matthew's head was held in place by Alfred, grip starting to bruise. “Just a drop Mattie. Just a drop for me?” the deranged American sang, forcing his own brother's mouth open.

Matthew thrashed but it was too late. The alien substance splashed on his tongue, down his throat. Trying to cough it up, he swallowed some by accident. It was awful and thick like syrup, and...

_Warmth._

_Home._

_Love._

Everything but this moment fell away. Matthew went slack, eyes blown wide. “Another. Another. I need more.” he muttered, lost in a mental fog. Ivan smiled, pleased as Alfred offered a chilled can from the fridge. The couple held hands and watched Canada drain the can of carbonated chemicals desperately. 

This was only the beginning. They would unite the world with love, one soda at a time.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you see? Comment or leave a kudos!


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